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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28115271">Coffee Lessons</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhaized/pseuds/Rhaized'>Rhaized</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Madonna and Baby [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, The Golden Compass (2007)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Lyra learns that Mrs. Coulter has high expectations, Lyra still hates coffee but likes the fancy stuff, Mrs. Coulter and Lyra go out for some coffee, Mrs. Coulter wants to start molding Lyra in the way of coffee etiquette</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:14:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,815</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28115271</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhaized/pseuds/Rhaized</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mrs. Coulter takes Lyra out to try fancy coffee at a new coffee shop, as well as share with Lyra tips about the delicacy of a coffee date.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lyra Belacqua &amp; Marisa Coulter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Madonna and Baby [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1998481</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Coffee Lessons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lyra never really had coffee before moving in with Mrs. Coulter. She'd tried it a few times at Jordan when she'd sneak into the kitchen to spend time with Roger. That first time she did it more out of bored curiosity than anything else, taking a sip of a servant's cup and grimacing at the strong, bitter taste that met her lips. She'd spat it out that first time (in a proper sink, of course) and had tried to suffer through it a few times after, wondering if it just wasn't made right or if she was being too harsh. It was all to no avail, however, as she'd hated her first few tries and stayed away from it ever since. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't think I like coffee," Lyra was sighing to Mrs. Coulter as they walked hand-in-hand down a busy storefront street. The late-afternoon summer sun shone brightly above their heads as they passed stores and stalls set up in the street, a summer ritual in these parts. Mrs. Coulter wanted to try a new little coffee shop, which made Lyra feel the need to express her </span>
  <em>
    <span>disdain </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the substance. Pan soared in the air as an eagle, flexing his feathers in the breeze. The golden monkey trotted on Mrs. Coulter's left side as he looked up at Pan, watching his every stride. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How did you have it when you tried it?" Mrs. Coulter asked her, smiling and nodding to another woman and a little girl who passed them by. They weren't as well </span>
  <em>
    <span>dressed </span>
  </em>
  <span>as Mrs. Coulter and Lyra, though, with Mrs. Coulter's silk, floral dress and Lyra's own bright yellow sundress. They were dressed better than a lot of other people, Lyra noticed, although she didn't particularly care. Fashion wasn’t as important to her as it was to Mrs. Coulter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Just black I think," Lyra answered. "It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgusting."</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, that's no way to drink it!" Mrs. Coulter squeezed Lyra's hand and then winked at her. "Let me help you choose a </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>cup of coffee."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They entered a small little store that was warm and smelled of baked sweets and earthy aromas. All Lyra could do was marvel as she looked around the shop, taking in people with their steaming mugs and easy laughs and their daemons wandering around comfortably. They stood in line until it was their turn and Mrs. Coulter ordered Lyra a very special drink called a caramel macchiato frappé with whipped cream. Lyra watched in wonder as the worker made it, crushing the ice before pouring in the coffee and then blending it all together, sliding it into a glass and then furnishing it with a tall tower of whipped cream. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Do you like it?" Mrs. Coulter asked once they were sitting outside at one of the little tables. Lyra nodded, her eyes wide and her mouth a mess of whipped cream as she tilted the glass toward her to drink it. Frowning, Mrs. Coulter tutted and handed her a straw before leaning forward to wipe at Lyra's mouth with her handkerchief. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You drink these things with straws," Mrs. Coulter told her, eyes cool as Lyra unwrapped the straw and then stuck it into the glass. “Don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>drink coffee like that, in my presence or out of it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” said Lyra dreamily. She didn’t care, nor was she really listening. Pan looked up from her feet with amusement in his tabby cat eyes as she practically inhaled the drink. It was sweet and crunchy and light all at the same time. It was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>tasty. </span>
  </em>
  <span>How was that possible, Lyra wondered? For all of those things to happen at once and to combine to be something so incredible? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s like...it’s not even coffee at all!” Lyra realized aloud, pausing her assault of the glass to stare at it. Indeed there was sugar and cream and ice and so much more scattered all throughout. It tasted nothing like the coffee she’d tried at Jordan. “I didn’t know coffee could be...less </span>
  <em>
    <span>boring.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s the thing about life, Lyra,” said Mrs. Coulter, her eyes sparkling. “It’s all about sprucing up things that are otherwise entirely boring.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Lyra agreed, although she didn’t really know what she was agreeing to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Coffee in particular is an important part of society,” Mrs. Coulter continued, sipping her own drink (a plain coffee with two creams and two sugars). “Do you know how coffee was first made, and the role it has played historically in our daily lives?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lyra didn't care. She could literally not care any less than she already did. So she nodded as Mrs. Coulter rattled on and on, moving to eat her pastry now. It was an almond croissant and was a lot tastier than Lyra might have expected. It was topped with thin pieces of almond and tasted so light and delicate. It was fluffy, too, but still satisfying. Normally Lyra preferred rich, chocolate cakes and baked goods, but this was a nice change of pace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sometimes a man asks a woman out for coffee on a date," Mrs. Coulter was explaining, which actually caught Lyra's attention. She lifted her head at that to look at Mrs. Coulter more fully. "There's a certain </span>
  <em>
    <span>etiquette </span>
  </em>
  <span>the woman should keep in mind on such occasions."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What does </span>
  <em>
    <span>et-ah-cat</span>
  </em>
  <span> mean?" Lyra asked, before turning back to her straw and working to get the rest of the whipped cream that was left at the bottom. There wasn’t much there, but she was determined to enjoy every last part of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Etiquette," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Mrs. Coulter corrected, frowning again as she watched Lyra finish the last of her coffee. Pan thought he saw her actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>wince </span>
  </em>
  <span>as Lyra hit the bottom of the cup and her straw practically screeched as it sucked up nothing but air. "Stop that, won't you, dear? That slurping is most unlady-like… And it means a code of polite behavior. It's a set of rules we abide by."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Rules?" Lyra asked, her nose scrunching. Pan looked up at her then. He narrowed his amber eyes and flicked his right ear. He knew how much she </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated </span>
  </em>
  <span>the idea and concept of rules. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, Lyra." Mrs. Coulter's face was stern now. "Etiquette guides our daily lives. It molds our society and keeps it functioning."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That's what all the adults say, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lyra grumbled to Pan, shoulders hunched as she crowded over her now-empty drink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe because, sometimes, it's true, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pan offered back, and Lyra sighed. He was right, of course, but Lyra didn’t necessarily like it. She still had a healthy distrust of any and all rules—a trait she picked up from her uncle, Mrs. Coulter had once sneered at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Let's go over some coffee date etiquette together now, shall we? It’s an important thing for a young lady to start thinking about." It wasn't really a question or an option, so all Lyra could do was nod. Mrs. Coulter took a deep breath and cleared her throat. "First up: shoulders straight, back up against your chair. Go on." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lyra obeyed, feeling mightily </span>
  <em>
    <span>stiff </span>
  </em>
  <span>and pretentious as she did so. She caught a flash of gold from the corner of her eye, and saw that the monkey daemon had come closer to properly inspect her. Lyra straightened her shoulders even more to the point where she felt like a statue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How boring, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she couldn't help but drawl in her mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Good," Mrs. Coulter approved, nodding. "Now: the waiter comes to the table and the gentleman turns to you and asks you what you'd like to order. What do you choose?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The most expensive thing on the menu since he's paying?" Lyra asked brightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No!" Mrs. Coulter puffed, looking horrified. The golden monkey let out a hiss. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Lyra, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you must </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>do that. That's what poor people do. And we are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> poor."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So what do I get then?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Go for light and manageable," Mrs. Coulter sang. "A regular coffee. Decaf if it's past four o'clock."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But that's boring!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's not supposed to be exciting, dear," Mrs. Coulter said patiently, although Pan saw the monkey's tail wagging in a state of irritation. "You spruce it up, remember? On a date you need to impress. You need to keep up the illusion of magnificence and excitement, even if the things and people in front of you are anything but."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well...can I least put some cream and sugar in it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course you can!” Mrs. Coulter practically sang, gesturing toward her own mug of coffee. “That’s the way I drink it. You ask for cream and sugar on the side and then you pour it in as you please. Now, another thing we should discuss is how to </span>
  <em>
    <span>drink </span>
  </em>
  <span>your coffee.” The woman paused to gaze down at Lyra and her empty glass. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Certainly </span>
  </em>
  <span>not the way you just did. Let’s try again, shall we?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Coulter ordered Lyra a plain coffee for them to practice some more. Lyra didn’t really </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to, as she still didn’t trust the idea of regular coffee. But she obliged as Mrs. Coulter instructed her to take it, holding it firmly in her left hand while she reached for the creamer with her right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pour some in now,” said Mrs. Coulter gently. Lyra tipped the container and, exchanging a grin with Pan, poured in a significantly large amount so that the glass was almost overflowing with milk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Lyra!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Mrs. Coulter exclaimed, her mouth opening in a cross sort of horror as Lyra then scooped up a giant tablespoon of sugar and mixed it in, causing the liquid to splash out every which way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>drinking that disgusting black coffee,” Lyra asserted, putting the spoon down and then admiring her handiwork. "Now it's all light and sweet! Just like how the man inside made it."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” Mrs. Coulter stood up and then scooped the cup away from her, causing both Lyra and her daemon to squawk in protest. “This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>unacceptable, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lyra. This is not how you mix coffee and it’s certainly not healthy to drink. Do you know how much sugar you put in there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>put sugar in </span>
  <em>
    <span>yours," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lyra argued, aware of the monkey letting out a low growl and Mrs. Coulter herself seeming to practically radiate her displeasure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re impossible,” Mrs. Coulter fumed as she left some coins on the table and then grabbed Lyra’s arm roughly and yanked her away. Lyra had spilled some of the coffee on her dress and was simultaneously trying to dab at it with her bare hands while also keep up with Mrs. Coulter’s pace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’d I do, then?” Lyra asked, although both she and Pan already knew the answer. “Would I impress my date?”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<span>“Absolutely not.” Mrs. Coulter’s hold on Lyra tightened, and Lyra grinned before remembering herself and hiding her facial expression. “We have </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>much work to do, Lyra. You’ve no idea.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I just really love coffee and, in my mind, think Mrs. Coulter just might as well. :) Hope you enjoyed this quick fic featuring more of Lyra and Mrs. C getting along in Mrs. Coulter's London!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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